


There Was No Time

by Tigerine (sealink)



Category: Samurai Flamenco
Genre: Anal Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-29
Updated: 2013-11-29
Packaged: 2018-01-02 22:36:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1062466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sealink/pseuds/Tigerine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place after the events of Episode 7. Contains spoilers for up to Episode 7. Goto comforts a shaken Masayoshi.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There Was No Time

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr: tigerine.tumblr.com  
> Tracked tags: #tigerine
> 
> Don't be afraid to send me asks, I love hearing from you.

No one knows if it’s suicide or terrorism or simply a drug bust gone completely wrong. But the entire ride back to his apartment, wrapped in a fireman’s blanket, he can’t get that image of the gorilla’s hand wrapped around Goto out of his mind. He can’t shake the horrible, heavy _clank_ of the guillotine and the thud of a head on the office floor. He can’t get the voice out of his head.

Goto has to tell him to take off his helmet and conceal it under the blanket, and Masayoshi is grateful to him for the way he looks around as they hurry into the lobby of his apartment building. There’s not a reward for his head anymore, but it seems that there’s a greater threat now, one that might stalk him in his bed, and they can’t be too careful.

It’s only after they have the door locked behind them that Masayoshi hears Goto heave a sigh of relief, and he’s jealous for a split second at being able to breathe so easily. His hands shake as he drops the blanket and kicks off his boots at the door. He fiddles with the clasps of his body armor, and his fingers clench around the “Chief For A Day” ribbon across his chest that he’d been so proud to wear. He watched four men die in front of him and couldn’t do anything to help them. He barely saved Goto’s life and nearly got killed himself.

Goto is there without Masayoshi even looking up, and his voice is quiet. “Hazama-kun.”

Masayoshi shucks the belt from his costume and tugs the fitted shirt off over his head. “Am I playing at being a hero?” The words spill out of him and even to his own ears, they sound pathetic. “I thought I was making a difference, but…”

Masayoshi’s skin is pale, and Goto can’t help but remember the first time he saw him, naked in an alleyway, his shoulders square and head held high when he said he was a hero. And now his shoulders are slumped and he’s shaking. A tight, strained sigh whispers out and Goto knows. He’s seen him for so many weeks, spent so much time around him, not that Masayoshi is hard to read anyway. Goto knows that he’s barely keeping it together.

He reaches out without thinking and places his hand on Masayoshi’s shoulder, and the way Masayoshi flinches, as if Goto has struck him, and sinks to his knees makes Goto’s heart beat sideways in his chest. He’s on the floor before he realizes it, his peaked cap discarded on the couch, gathering Masayoshi up in a hug.

It was supposed to be a comforting hug, but Masayoshi cleaves to him, his arms tightening around him until Goto finds it hard to breathe. He’s smoothing his hands over Masayoshi’s back, and feels him shake once as he gasps a sob into Goto’s shoulder and curls his hands into fists on Goto’s back.

“They had families! They had dreams and places they wanted to go this summer! They had likes and dislikes and irritating habits and first loves and everything—ALL OF IT—is gone because I—because I couldn’t—!”

His voice is gentle when he comforts him. “Hey, you can’t blame yourself. No one could have known what was going to happen.”

Goto has seen this kind of thing before, in cops that have lost partners or seen the rare outbursts of mass violence. Not too often, because he’s a beat cop and he’s never worked in vice or homicide, but he’s seen this kind of survivor’s guilt before.

“What am I good for if I can’t save anyone?”

He’s not prepared when Masayoshi looks up at him, not ready for the flushed face and tear-fringed lashes. He’s not prepared for the quivering lower lip and gritted teeth, for the crippling self-doubt and aching heart in front of him. He’s not prepared to find himself kissing Masayoshi, for the way his mouth yields to him, for the tilt of his head and the small noise of surprise. He’s not prepared for the sound of heavy breathing against his skin, or the way Masayoshi’s hand has slipped to the side of his face.

Goto’s lips slide down Masayoshi’s jaw, leaving a trail of warm kisses in his wake. He can’t think straight because his arms are full of someone leaning against him. He noses aside Masayoshi’s hair to nibble at his ear. Masayoshi moans and it completely shatters Goto’s sense of right and wrong.

He’s been with Masayoshi so much lately, protecting him from the inquisitive eyes of the press, making sure that nothing terrible happens. Seeing him every day, protecting him, has transformed from something that he wants to do into something he needs to do. Why else would he have drafted that proposal, but to spend more time with him? Why else would he have spent so many nights here, in this apartment? And even this, this kiss, was the last thing he thought he’d do, the last thing he thought he’d ever want to do.

“This is what you are for. You are for breathing and living and continuing on even when things seem hopeless.” He punctuates his words with nibbling kisses, and Masayoshi’s head falls to the side, exposing his neck. “You are for fighting evil, for challenging the unjust,” and one of his hands trails across Masayoshi’s ribs, making him shiver in anticipation.

“You’re a strange person, but we needed a strange person today.” Goto sees Masayoshi’s lips twist in a grimace out of the corner of his eye. All he can think of is the grim look on Samurai Flamenco’s face when he’d been held by the gorilla, the tight line of his mouth as he attacked something so much larger than himself. Masayoshi hadn’t hesitated at all to try and save his life, even at the expense of his own. They are bound together, each owing the other a life debt. “ _I_ needed a strange person today,” he finishes.

And he is unprepared again, for the tears that well up in Masayoshi’s eyes, for the broken “I almost lost you!” that rips from his mouth like a hard-won secret. The shock on Masayoshi’s face when he realizes what he’s said, that he could have lost his closest friend, his only friend, is overtaken by the blush that floods his face. These are words that should come from a girlfriend or a lover, but when Goto hears them from Masayoshi’s lips, a tight, queasy feeling of his stomach turning over leaves him feeling weak and desperate.

Goto looks down into Masayoshi’s tense, frightened face and the sentence that comes out isn’t the one he should have said if he had any desire at all to stop this armful of male model and justice warrior leaning into his body, this illicit embrace between an officer of the peace and a vigilante. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

The second time, Masayoshi kisses him. It is less demanding than first, speaking less of the need to know that you are alive, and more of the need to know who you’re with at this moment in time, whose lips are pressed against yours. Not a kiss of relief or fear, but a kiss of desire.

Goto fumbles with his buttons, and all the trappings of his uniform, the badge, the pins, radio, everything seems calculated to get in his way. He’s never had his fingers be so uncoordinated before, and Masayoshi already has his fingers at his collar, helping with the buttons. Goto switches to pulling off his patrol belt, dropping it around his ankles and walking Masayoshi step-by-step backwards toward the bedroom. He pulls his belt out from his trousers as Masayoshi pushes Goto’s shirt off his shoulders.

Goto feels a little cheated that he doesn’t get to undress Masayoshi at all, but as he pulls his undershirt over his head and turns to toss it with the trail of clothes they’ve left on their way in to the bed, nothing seems wrong to him. His uniform is here in pieces in Masayoshi’s apartment, but it’s more than that; their selves are blending, mingling, and the prospect of actually touching Masayoshi _like that_ doesn’t feel out of place at all. They’ve been eating curry and watching television and accidentally grabbing each others' drinks for weeks. It feels like the culmination of nights spent together on the couch, slowly closing a distance by halves.

By the time they make it to the bed, Masayoshi has shimmied out of his costume pants and he’s tugging at the fastener at Goto’s waist and Goto pushes his hands out of the way, shoving them down and sitting on the bed. Masayoshi leans down and tugs them the rest of the way off, letting them drop before sliding into Goto’s lap, his knees on either side of Goto’s hips.

Goto’s hands run over Masayoshi’s back, his hands curving around his ribcage, fingers splayed out over his skin. He only grazes Masayoshi’s nipple, but Masayoshi makes this _noise_ and his hips press down with a rolling movement that makes Goto’s teeth clench. The air around their heated skin seems somehow much colder, and now the barriers between them are that much thinner. Masayoshi shifts in Goto’s lap and the pressure makes them both groan. The way their bodies are pressed together, there’s no mistaking how badly Masayoshi wants him, and it thrills Goto down to his toes.

Goto leans forward to kiss his neck and Masayoshi’s head falls back, and his hands slide up to rest on Goto’s shoulders and this is when he hears it. “Goto-san… is… is this okay?”

Goto knows that Masayoshi is not asking one question, but many. _Is it okay to do this after people died today? Is it okay while you have a girlfriend? Is it okay that I’m a guy?_ And Goto can’t answer with anything but “Yes.”

The answer is not out of his lips for a moment before Masayoshi’s arms encircle his neck and the younger man’s mouth is on his and he grinds against Goto, whimpering needfully. Goto presses his hand to Masayoshi’s lower back and rolls to the side, pinning Masayoshi to the bed under him.

When he kisses Masayoshi’s neck, he’s rewarded with a gasp and they only get louder as he works his way down his chest; he’s noisy, _really_ noisy, like he’s never learned how to be quiet about it. When Goto reaches the waistband of his boxers, there’s already a dark spot on the front where Masayoshi’s been leaking precum. Goto slides his hand in and wraps his hand around Masayoshi’s dick and the reaction is instantaneous; he arches up off the bed and Goto is just in awe of his voice and how unashamed he is. He can’t help but think that this is just like Masayoshi, to have such an honest, passionate response.

Goto has only ever been with women; he knows what women do for men, and he knows that he wants to hear Masayoshi make that noise again, so he strips Masayoshi of his boxers. Masayoshi falls quiet and he lifts his head just in time to see Goto’s mouth inches from his cock and when his lips close around him, he yells Goto’s name, his hand clenching in the sheets.

There’s no finesse to Goto’s technique; it’s slow and clumsy. But Masayoshi jerks and quakes under his tongue and hands, his voice breaking, and even though Goto knows he’s not “as good” as any of his previous girlfriends, the response he’s getting makes him feel amazing. He can make Masayoshi feel this good with so little effort.

This is when it first occurs to him that it might be Masayoshi’s first time. Goto moves up next to Masayoshi on the bed and asks him in a low voice if he has a condom. Masayoshi’s blush might have told him all he needed to know, but the shaking of his head confirms it. The next question is more difficult.

“Have you ever done this before?”

“No,” Masayoshi replies in a thin voice.

“With anyone?”

Masayoshi drapes his arm over his eyes, trying to hide the blush that is blossoming in his cheeks. “With anyone.”

Goto just kisses him gently in reply and murmurs, “I’ll go to the convenience store.”

The look that Masayoshi gives him is pained, panicked. He thinks that Goto’s leaving, that he won’t come back. Goto kisses him again and says, “I’ll be back. I promise.”

And his word means everything to Masayoshi; the relief shows on his face instantly.

Goto has never had to suppress an erection like the one he’s got now in his life. He puts on his undershirt and pants and walks as fast as he can down to the corner. He doesn’t even care that he looks like he just rolled out of bed, or the sideways look the clerk gives his flushed face when he buys condoms and lube. His head is full of a blond with pale skin and deep blue eyes spread out on a bed with a voice like heaven.

He gets back and locks the door behind him, leaving his shoes strewn across the _genkan_ , the bag around one wrist, and the fingers of his other hand already unbuttoning his pants again.

He walks into the bedroom and Masayoshi is waiting for him on the bed, his knees drawn up to his chest, looking at the door. Goto slings the bag against the nightstand, stripping off his shirt and pants. Masayoshi meets him at the edge of the bed on his knees and wraps his arm around Goto, falling backwards and pulling him on top of him.

Goto has just barely gotten out of his clothes, and one sock Is still on, but Masayoshi’s legs fall open and wrap around him and Goto looks down at Masayoshi’s half-lidded eyes. He’s struck by how different Masayoshi is from any other woman he’s ever had underneath him, and realizes that it can’t compare. The vaguely disinterested looks and mild polite moans of the women he’s been with can’t compare with Masayoshi at all.

His body reacts to the thought of Masayoshi underneath him and his half-tumescent cock surges back. Masayoshi looks at Goto, at the way Goto is admiring him and he begins to sit up, murmuring entreaties. Goto has already reached down next to the bed, pulling out a foil packet and the lube. He knows how this is done; he's had a girlfriend into stuff like this before, and he presses Masayoshi back down into the bed with a palm to his chest.

Masayoshi gasps at the coldness of the lube on his skin, but it warms as Goto spreads it with one hand and slowly pumps Masayoshi's dick with the other. It's wonderful to see him twitch and shudder, and the cry he voices when Goto slips the first finger in is perfect. He can't keep his voice down at all. It echoes in his enormous bedroom and Goto thinks it's the most erotic thing he's ever heard, the way it fills his ears and can still fill the bedroom after that. It's a whole-hearted way of expressing passion and love that Goto wasn't aware he'd been missing. He is fantastically hard, slick with his own desire and the strain of being inches away from Masayoshi's hips.

Goto rolls the condom on with shaking hands, smearing lube up and down his shaft, fully aware that he's about to really cross a line. Up until now he might have been able to pass it off as comforting Masayoshi, might have been able to explain away his actions, but now he's making a conscious choice, to choose Masayoshi over anyone else. Even as he looks to Masayoshi for permission, he asks with his eyes one last time, Masayoshi pulls at him eagerly, urging him with his legs, whispering, “Hurry!”

His breath is ragged as he slowly threads Masayoshi onto his cock. It's tight and smooth and Masayoshi's head is completely thrown back, the cords of his neck taut and exposed. He's whimpering for Goto, saying his name over and over like a litany.

Goto says to himself that any moment now he'll stop pushing forward, any moment now he'll hold still and let Masayoshi catch his breath and grow used to the feeling of Goto inside him. Any moment now he'll just stop and be able to not move and have Masayoshi relax around him. But then his hips are pressed fully into him and Goto realizes that Masayoshi has taken all of him, panting, with tears at the corner of his eyes.

Goto leans forward and kisses him, swallowing his moan of discomfort and peppering him with kisses. Masayoshi's face is feverish, and his arms slide around Goto's back and he clings to him as Goto wraps his arms around him and begins to fuck him.

Masayoshi's cries sway with each thrust, gasping for air between them. “Goto-san,” he groans, and it sounds like something lewd, his name in that voice. Goto does his best to be tender, but the way he gathers the sheets and screws his eyes shut is the sweetest form of begging for more, matched only by the fire that coils through him when he sees Masayoshi's eyes half-open, meeting his gaze. Connected at two points, they lose themselves in a heaving, sweaty mass of tangled limbs and churning hips.

Masayoshi comes first, his cock jerking and splattering come across his pale stomach, a thin, reedy cry escaping from him even though he bites his lip. The way he rolls his head to the right and closes his eyes makes Goto wonder if he does that every time he comes.

And then he's thinking of doing this with Masayoshi again, getting to be with him whenever he wants, without reservations, without inhibitions, and something comes undone in him. His orgasm surprises him, leaving him shaking, crouched over Masayoshi, and he's dimly aware of slender hands stroking his hair fondly and the soft susurration of his lover's breath. Masayoshi holds him tenderly in his arms, and Goto never wants to leave.

Masayoshi is already drifting off as they clean up, but he pulls the covers up around them and smiles lazily at Goto as they lean back on the pillows. Goto can't remember having ever been so pleased, so lit-up-from-inside happy at seeing someone else's smile.

He tells himself that he didn't want Masayoshi to lose his conviction, that his body might be a small price to pay to preserve that. Goto lies awake long after he's heard Masayoshi's breathing deepen and slow. He doesn't feel bad about sleeping with Masayoshi, at all, and somehow that troubles him more than the actual act of being unfaithful. He looks at his lover's hair, fuck-tousled on the pillow, amazed again at how beautiful he is, and although he has some regrets about not texting his girlfriend about the raid going wrong today, he feels like there was no time.

 


End file.
